


moon glow

by venusghost (bakunonist)



Series: one plus two [2]
Category: X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Canon Compliant, Dom Kim Wooseok, Dom/sub Undertones, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Humor, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, M/M, Seungyoun Best Friend Award, Sub Kim Yohan, Wooseok Falls In Love And Refuses To Believe It, Yohan’s Been In Love All Along
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-06 21:08:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20297953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bakunonist/pseuds/venusghost
Summary: Wooseok has spent an entire lifetime struggling to stop and breathe and love something more than his own dreams, and maybe this—whatever this feeling is around Yohan—is something worth loving.





	moon glow

**Author's Note:**

> **welcome** to the less funny, less smutty, & angstier sequel to the yocat fwb fic. but. uh... it’s cute i promise. seungyoun is the mvp in this one guys. *love noises during all the seungseok scenes*
> 
> **fun fact:** this fic was supposed to be a 9+2 things fic detailing how each of the members found out abt yocat’s relationship, but then that quickly went out the window then i was at like 6k and i had just barely finished seungyoun’s part. 
> 
> **tw:** kinks are a lot harder here than part one (e.g. light humiliation, degradation, and wooseok generally being a bit rough with our favorite subby puppy!) wooseok is a lot more dommy and yohan is a lot more subby in this one :]
> 
> the first half is self-indulgent **comedy** with dabbles of self-indulgent **porn**. the second half is a bit of a ride. **very light angst** only though. hope u guys enjoy!

**SEUNGWOO**

Wooseok supposes it was fitting that Seungwoo was the first to find out. Or, well, _ see _ with his own two eyes. He knows that Seungwoo’s had an inkling about the two of them ever since the day off they had before the Produce finale when he had caught them sneaking back into the dorms together.

(Wooseok and Yohan had barely made it back in time for the last late night ramen session with all twenty trainees. Seungwoo happened to be in the corridor, holding a coffee pot full of sink water when he saw them—Wooseok’s arm around Yohan’s waist, hand fisted in the loose fabric of Yohan’s shirt, forehead nuzzled into the back of the taller boy’s shoulder sleepily. 

When the two boys _ finally _noticed that Seungwoo had been watching their PDA for a solid minute, his face a mixture of confusion, shock, and utter disgust, they jumped away from each other and power walked off to opposite directions. 

Wooseok is thankful that Seungwoo never told Jinhyuk about that . . . _ encounter_. But later, right before Wooseok was about to leave for his own room, Seungwoo pulled him aside to ask what that had been all about, and Wooseok had very simply responded with _ Huh? I have no idea what you’re talking about. Me? Spend the day with Yohan? Hug him from behind? Sounds like a weird fever dream of yours, hyung._)

Ever since, Seungwoo’s been shooting the two of them weird looks, but he’s never asked any further questions. In addition, Wooseok and Yohan have been _ extra _ careful around their leader. 

But the two of them are only human.

The night after they’ve finished their music video filming, the managers let the boys go to a BBQ restaurant to celebrate. Apparently, all of the boys had heard a rumor about Wooseok’s drinking tolerance (—Wooseok just _ knows _ that it was Jinhyuk who spread the news around), and wanted to see it for themselves.

“No way,” Dohyon insists. “Hyung’s even smaller than Ha—”

Hangyul smacks the back of the boy’s head. Dohyon only puffs out his cheeks and sinks a little in his chair. Wooseok thinks he sees their maknae kick Hangyul under the table, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Dohyon’s cute when he’s playing upset anyways.

“My sources are reliable,” Seungyoun says with a grin, nudging Wooseok’s side with his elbow. 

Shooting Seungyoun a squinted glare, Wooseok responds, “Whatever Jinhyuk told you was an exaggeration. We only ever went out drinking together a couple of times.”

Almost comically, Seungyoun whistles and looks away, grabbing a bottle of soju from the table and pouring Wooseok’s glass full. Wooseok’s chest feels a little warm at Seungyoun’s stupid efforts. The best he can do is accept the challenge.

It’s a long night.

However . . . in all of Seungyoun’s (failed) attempts to get Wooseok shit-faced, the rest of them seemed to lose sight of a certain member. No one notices until Yohan’s giggling starts to get out of control at the dumbest of jokes, until Yohan’s body is spilling over onto Seungwoo’s lap and the oldest boy is left looking at one of their managers helplessly.

Wooseok’s eyes pop wide open. Yohan’s never been one to be that touchy; he’s always been a little squirmy when it came to skinship of any sort, Wooseok has found. (The two exceptions are with Hyeongjun when the boy is being especially cute, or with Wooseok during the few hours or so after they’ve had sex, but it’s not like Wooseok will ever tell anyone about the latter.) Despite Yohan’s squeamish attitude towards skinship, right now he’s rivaling Jinhyuk’s level of touchy, Wooseok thinks, jaw dropping at the strange sight of Yohan cupping both of Seungwoo’s cheeks like he usually does with Hyeongjun.

“I . . . whoa . . . ” Hangyul voices, as shocked as Wooseok. “How much did he have?”

Seungwoo coughs awkwardly, words almost unintelligible because of how tightly Yohan’s squishing his cheeks, but Wooseok makes out something close to: “Two cups, I think.”

Bursting out into laughter, Seungyoun slaps the table lightly, the glasses clinking softly against the wood of the table. “Fuck, man. Wrong target acquired, but mission accomplished,” he says through the laughter.

Grimacing at the way Yohan’s now trying to climb _ into _ Seungwoo’s lap, Wooseok tips down another glass of soju with a groan. “Great, no one noticed our star athlete getting sloshed,” he jeers.

And at that, Yohan lets out a _ loud _ giggle. “Aw, Wooseok-hyung! You think I’m a star?”

Wooseok’s face goes pink. He wishes that he could play it off as the alcohol, but the gradient goes from light peach to deep scarlet as soon Yohan exclaims, “I always _ knew _ you liked me! I like you too, hyung, especially when you let me fing—”

“Okay!” Seungwoo shouts, shoving a hand over Yohan’s mouth. “That’s enough out of you! Look, you’re making Wooseok uncomfortable.”

Wooseok has never loved their leader more.

Everyone at the table seems confused at Yohan’s monologue, but thankfully (—god, Wooseok is so utterly thankful for this—) no one seems to connect the dots. Even Seungwoo only looks at Yohan a little weirdly, frowning slightly and sneaking looks over to Wooseok. No one seems to consider it as anything but a nonsensical drunken confession, laughing at the way Yohan goes limp after a few seconds of Seungwoo literally keeping his mouth shut.

Seungwoo gets up, pulling Yohan up with him and hauling the boy’s arm up over his shoulders. “The dorm’s only a few minutes walk from here. I’ll walk this idiot back.”

“Wait, no!” Yohan yells, the rest of them cringing when they catch some of the other customers send dirty looks at their table. Out of the corner of his eye, Wooseok catches Eunsang plucking a piece of meat from the grill, followed by Junho slapping his arm for obnoxiously interrupting the scene. “I want Wooseok-hyung to walk me back.”

As far as everyone at the table knows (or rather, _ thinks_) Yohan and Wooseok aren’t on particularly great terms. Wooseok remembers the time back at training camp when Jinwoo asked Jinhyuk if anything went down between the two of them to cause all the bad blood. Wooseok cringes when he remembers that Jinhyuk had said, “Ah, well? The story’s a bit too _ R-18 _ for you—”

(And that’s all he got out before Wooseok tackled him).

But to everyone there, Yohan and Wooseok are just barely amicable. Even the managers know this. So Wooseok isn’t exactly surprised when all their heads whip to face him. Wincing at the attention, he groans, “Why me?”

Yohan pouts. God, Yohan _ pouts _ and Wooseok can feel his will already starting to crumble. All it takes is a few more seconds of Yohan looking cute and looking longingly at Wooseok for the older boy to give in.

(Junho and Eunsang share a look at how easily Wooseok agrees.)

By the time they’re outside, Wooseok’s back aches. He’s certain that this little shit isn’t even _ trying _to hold his own weight up, instead leaning almost entirely on Wooseok as they walk. If Wooseok’s being honest, a part of him is seriously tempted to let go of Yohan and leave the boy in the street, but whenever he looks up at Yohan, he’s got this stupid smiley glow about him that makes Wooseok’s knees buckle.

When they’ve barely made it a block past the BBQ restaurant, stumbling and swaying the entire way, Wooseok pulls Yohan into an alleyway for the two of them to rest.

“Idiot,” Wooseok mumbles, voice too tender for it to mean anything. With a rough hand, he brushes Yohan’s bangs away, black hair strewn messily all over his forehead. (Yohan’s hair is getting long enough that it’s brushing close to his eyes.) “Don’t drink so much next time.”

Yohan hums into the touch, nodding and acting so compliant that Wooseok is, not for the first time, reminded of a cute puppy. “Mmh, hyung. _ Missed you_,” he utters, crowding Wooseok into the nearest wall.

Wooseok can see where this is going, so he flicks the boy’s forehead as soon as his back hits the wall with a soft thud. “Yah, Yohan-ah,” he warns. “Is this why you wanted me to walk you back?”

Giggling like he’s just been found out, Yohan places both his hands on Wooseok’s hips and leans down for a kiss. Wooseok tries and fails to swat his hands away. “_Nooo_, don’t pout,” Yohan demands all of a sudden—Wooseok hadn’t even realized that he was pouting. Pressing their bodies together, Yohan brings a finger up to Wooseok’s cheek, clumsily trying to force a lopsided smile onto the older’s face.

Slapping the finger away, Wooseok pout grows even deeper. “Hey. We need to get back before the others join us.”

Yohan seems to light up at that. “Oh! Are we gon—”

“No,” Wooseok shoots quickly. “_You _ are going to go to bed, and _ I _ am going to wait for the others.”

“Aw,” Yohan whines, a cute frown on his face. “But we haven’t done anything since Produce ended.”

“For good reason.”

“We never even celebrated how I beat you!”

Wooseok’s eye twitches, and he resists the urge to leave Yohan for dead in this alleyway. “We’ve been too busy, Yohan-ah.”

But then Yohan only makes this bratty whining noise, puppy dog eyes staring right at Wooseok. His lips are still a little puffy from when Hangyul dared him to dunk all of his food into the spiciest sauce the restaurant had.

God, as annoying as Yohan is, he’s _ cute. _

At times like these, Wooseok can’t help the way his heart skips a tempo or two forward, beating wildly out of his chest. Wooseok hates cliches, but tonight’s moonshine highlights the bridge of Yohan’s nose, a light sheen on his skin _ glowing_. At times like these, Wooseok studies everything about Yohan, from the gentle rise and fall of his eyelashes to the fluffiness of his hair.

Without even realizing it, Wooseok lifts himself up on his tiptoes and presses a gentle kiss onto Yohan’s mouth. When he pulls back, he finds himself smiling ever so slightly at the surprised look on Yohan’s face—mouth making a cute little O shape. Wooseok expected that, but one thing he didn’t expect was the warm glow he now feels deep in his chest.

The second thing Wooseok didn’t expect was the way Yohan suddenly grips the back of his thighs, lifting Wooseok up and shoving him up against the wall. And the third thing? Maybe Wooseok should have expected this one. Maybe Wooseok should have expected Yohan smushing their mouths together without even a sentiment of grace.

Kissing Yohan is perhaps one of the few things Wooseok doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of. The breathy sighs, the wet drag of his tongue across Wooseok’s lips, and the way he treats Wooseok’s mouth like he’s oxygen—the way he never pulls back until he’s literally gasping for breath.

Wooseok doesn’t think he’ll ever want to stop. He doesn’t think he would ever be able to stop, even if he wanted.

Pulling away, Yohan gives him a dopey smile, eyes crinkling into crescents that could rival the moon’s everglow. “Hi,” he says dreamily.

Wooseok’s heart might leap out of his rib cage. “Hi,” he replies just as dreamily, feeling a little stupid but finding that it doesn’t matter when it comes to Yohan. Finding that he doesn’t really need to put up any airs around Yohan. Wooseok has spent an entire lifetime struggling to stop and breathe and love something more than his own dreams, and maybe this—_whatever this feeling is around Yohan_—is something worth loving.

Maybe.

Yohan’s dipping his head down for another kiss when Wooseok hears a soft cough behind them.

They both look over to see Seungwoo standing there, the horror displayed on his face not unlike the one he had on when he caught them in the hallway a few weeks ago.

“Ah . . . Seungwoo-hyung . . . ” Wooseok utters, dread filling his stomach as he swallows with a shaky gulp. It occurs to him that Yohan’s hands are still on his ass, and that he’s still shoved up against the wall. He taps on Yohan reluctantly, gesturing for the boy to put him down.

Back on his feet, Wooseok manages to sound out, “When did you get here?”

“I . . . ” Seungwoo coughs again, his face pale, save for his slightly blushed cheeks. “I, uh . . . a couple minutes ago. Everyone sent me out here to make sure you didn’t murder Yohan, ‘cause, like, you agreed way too easily to walk him back. But, uh, I now see that you didn’t . . . kill him. So—”

“Did you see all of it?” Wooseok asks sheepishly, even though he already knows the answer.

Grimacing, Seungwoo answers, “Yeah. But we can talk about it later. Let’s just get back for now. The others are gonna leave in like half an hour.”

Wooseok squeezes his eyes shut, the red-hot humiliation finally starting to set place in its full firestorm. “Okay,” he concedes, wrapping his arm around Yohan’s waist and wrapping Yohan’s arm around his own shoulders as they prepare to go forward.

In all of this, Yohan’s stayed mostly quiet, merely trying his hardest to avoid both Wooseok’s and Seungwoo’s gaze. 

When they make it back to the dorm, Wooseok helps tuck Yohan into his bed, taking his time in order to delay the inevitable confrontation. God, this feels like the time he told Jinhyuk about the practice room. His mind is racing and he really hopes that this isn’t the end for his and Yohan’s careers. He reminds himself that it was all okay when he told Jinhyuk . . . but then again, Jinhyuk is _ Jinhyuk_, so maybe that doesn’t count.

(He misses Jinhyuk more than anything.)

Enviously, he looks at Yohan already passed out on the bed, 100% oblivious to the excruciating pain Wooseok is about to go through, and he has to hold himself back from smacking Yohan in the face. (Perhaps it’s the cute, boyish pout Yohan has on as he sleeps that prevents Wooseok from hitting him. Perhaps.)

Steeling himself up, Wooseok softly pats Yohan’s head and sighs.

Once he makes it into the living room, he sees that Seungwoo’s sitting on one of the couches, head in his hands looking awfully tired.

_ Well, _ Wooseok thinks, _ on the bright side, at least he doesn’t look mad. _ Wooseok sits down on the cushion next to him, staring straight ahead at the wall, just like Seungwoo.

Breaking the glacier-heavy ice, Seungwoo asks, “You know this is dangerous, right?”

Wooseok feels that fierce dread in the pit of his stomach starting to boil over, so he asks, “Are you going to tell—”

“God no. South Korea’s number one and two picks? Outed? The nation would go mad,” he jokes with a grin. “Your secret’s safe with me. What you two do on your own time isn’t my business.” All the dread and all the goddamn anxiety in Wooseok’s stomach simmers down, and he can finally take a deep breath. “Just make sure that it doesn’t become my business. We’ve all worked too hard for it to be ruined.”

“We‘ll be careful,” Wooseok reassures. “Thanks, hyung.” He feels relieved in a way that he can’t even describe. Maybe some good did come out of this, knowing that he and Yohan can trust their leader with this dangerous secret.

“Are you two planning on telling anyone?”

Wooseok bites his lip. “Well uh, Jinhyuk already knows?”

Seungwoo raises both eyebrows, but he doesn’t look too surprised. “Ah, hm, that actually makes sense.”

_ God, what did Jinhyuk do now? _Wooseok thinks. (He ends up saying those thoughts out loud, his voice scratchy and pained.)

“He actually, well—” Seungwoo rubs at the back of his neck, chuckling breathily. “Before we all moved into this dorm, Jinhyuk gave me a word of advice, telling me not to let the two of you room together. I thought he just meant to prevent any fighting—”

“Jinhyuk’s a dumbfuck,” Wooseok deadpans.

Seungwoo throws his head back as he laughs, his smile teethy and open-mouthed. Wooseok feels his anxiety start to calm, and he lets himself relax enough to sit back against the couch. “Yeah I guess he is,” Seungwoo agrees, letting the silence between them settle into something close to comfortable before he continues with the questioning. “When’d he find out?”

Wincing at the memory, Wooseok reminds him about the time in the cafeteria Jinhyuk had that laughing fit.

Seungwoo’s voice is almost hysterical when he asks, “Wait, you two have been dating ever since_ then?_”

“No, no. We’re not dating,” Wooseok is quick to clarify, cheeks starting to flush as his heartbeat quickens. His next words are barely a whisper: “It’s just . . . _ physical_.”

Seungwoo goes silent. Wooseok wonders if he’s just made it worse.

“But in the alleyway,” the older boy finally begins, squinting his eyes as if he doesn’t believe it at all, words slow and hesitant, “I saw you two . . . ?”

Wooseok actually has no idea what Seungwoo’s talking about this time. All he saw was them making out for a bit. “Huh? What d’ya mean?”

Seungwoo furrows his brows and (—not for the first time tonight) drops his head into his palms, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Never mind.”

“It’s not romantic,” Wooseok explains further. “It’s just stress relief. Not much more than that. We don’t even like each other that much.” He doesn’t know why that last part leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

After eyeing Wooseok thoughtfully—_suspiciously_, if you were to ask Wooseok—the older boy sinks into the couch cushion, a beat or two passing between them. “Well, I don’t know if that makes this easier or just more complicated,” he admits. “But you’re happy, right?”

Wooseok pauses to actually think about it. He’s smiling fondly, his chest warm at the thought of Yohan before he even realizes it. He thinks about Yohan getting drunk off two shots. Thinks about Yohan giggling and scrunching his body up all cutely to make himself look smaller than he is. Thinks about Yohan falling apart in his hands, about Yohan giving Wooseok all his trust. Thinks about Yohan giving himself up _ for _ Wooseok.

“Yeah, I think, for once, I am.”

And at that, Seungwoo smiles, lips curled into a gentle, waning crescent. “Then that’s all that matters. I’ll talk to Yohan tomorrow morning, so don’t worry,” he promises, patting Wooseok on the back with a comforting smile. “Do you plan on telling the rest of the group, or—”

“I . . . ” _Do we? _Wooseok asks himself. What would he even say? _(Hey guys, I just wanted to let you know that Yohan and I have been fucking no strings attached since the Produce days!)_ No, no, definitely not. “We haven’t really talked about it at all. It’s never come up before,” he decides to say. It’s the truth, and after all, you need to be something to put a label on it. He and Yohan aren’t anything. “I’d appreciate it if you could keep it a secret from the members too. I, well, I guess _we _don’t know what we are,” Wooseok confesses after a lengthy time.

Seungwoo gives him a long, hard look and says, “That’s fine with me, Wooseok-ah. As long as you two are happy, I couldn’t care less about what you do together. I mean, of course I _ care _ but, you both are adults so I expect that you both are practicing safe sex and are using condoms and lu—”

Then they hear the buzzing of the front door, both boys letting out a relieved breath at the convenient interruption. Wooseok gets up to greet the rest of the kids, but then he hears Seungwoo loudly and panickedly exclaim—

“Wait, so that day off we had when I caught you two out in the hallway, the _ entire day _ you were—?”

Wooseok stares right into Seungwoo’s eyes for a few seconds before he _ winks_. As Wooseok walks over to the dorm’s front door, he thinks he hears something close to Seungwoo’s brain exploding.

* * *

**SEUNGYOUN**

Seungwoo had it bad, catching them in that dirty alleyway together. Wooseok was convinced that it couldn’t possibly get worse than that . . . until Seungyoun found out. Nothing—_nothing_—could ever be worse than how Seungyoun found out.

Wooseok remembers the lie he told that morning before he and Yohan left for their CF, right after Seungwoo had a full blown tantrum at not being chosen for it too. That singular lie he told—he realizes—was the cause of this entire disaster.

(“So you’re telling me that after all the goddamn energy drink advertisement I did during Produce, I get paid fucking dirt?” Seungyoun had yelled, betrayal dripping from his voice. “It is so not fair that _you _got the CF offer with Wooseok and not me, what the fuck? I swear to god, hell,_ I swear to Mnet_, if people knew how bad the chemistry between you two is, that offer would be going to _me_.”

Yohan merely giggled in response.

Everyone there knew that Seungyoun was only partially serious about his rant, but perhaps the 1% of him that _ was _ serious was what makes the whole episode even funnier.

“Another time,” Wooseok promised emptily.

“There won’t be another time, you traitor,” Seungyoun warned. “Next time I’m going with Hangyul.”

Wooseok gave Seungyoun’s lower back a pat. “Anyways,” he transitioned, addressing the entire group because he decided he was tired of Seungyoun’s loud theatrics—no matter how funny he was, “the managers said this would be an extra long shoot, so we’ll get back around one or two in the morning. Don’t wait up for us.”

Yohan’s eyes widened. _ One or two? _ he mouthed, to which Wooseok merely gave him the slightest of smiles.)

They get back to the dorms a little past eleven.

“Are you _ sure _ they’re all in their rooms?”

Wooseok nods. “In the morning before we left, I got Seungwoo-hyung to convince everyone to head to their rooms early.” He shivers at the memory. The gradual realization, the growing horror on their leader’s face after he had asked Wooseok _ sure, but why do you need the living room empty anyw—oh . . . _ is something he’ll never forget. “The room’s free for us,” Wooseok finishes.

“When’d you get the idea for this?” Yohan asks, flopping cutely onto the couch, sighing when he begins to sink into the cushions. Wooseok thinks he looks too too cute like that, his black hair all spread out beneath him, starting to come loose from the hairspray needed for the CF. “Lying to everyone about when we’d get back? Genius, by the way.”

“When the managers said we’d be back around eleven,” Wooseok answers, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his track pants, trying not to stare at Yohan too obviously. “When you got drunk the other day, you kept complaining about how we never have time alone anymore.”

Yohan blushes a little, shrinking in on himself. “Sorry about that, by the way.”

Wooseok can’t help his stupid brain, his stupid thoughts saying _ cute cute cute_. “Just don’t do it again, idiot. Jinhyuk and Seungwoo-hyung are enough.”

“It’s kinda nice though,” Yohan says, looking at Wooseok. There’s a soft blush on cheeks and his vulnerability smolders in the barely lit room. Wooseok thinks about the alleyway, thinks about the hotel room, thinks about the glow on Yohan’s face. “Having people who know about us, even if it’s just Jinhyuk-hyung and Seungwoo-hyung.”

_ Us,_ Wooseok thinks. _ Us. _

Wooseok doesn’t want to ruin the night with his own thoughts. He doesn’t want to ask the unsaid question lingering between them: _ what are we? _ And more than anything, he doesn’t want to be the one who ruins the moon glow.

So he doesn’t respond, only pulls off his hoodie and clambers on top of the younger boy, not unawkwardly. Once he’s sitting on Yohan’s thighs, he starts to play with the fabric of the boy’s shirt, humming one of their songs quietly. 

Somewhere along the line, they’ve definitely crossed the bounds of whatever they were during Produce. Beyond the sexual tension and all the meaningless quips, something comfortable and quiet settled between their bodies. Wooseok has found that he doesn’t really mind what they’ve become. He wonders if he’ll ever want more than this, want more than just sitting in Yohan’s lap close to midnight, the soft whir of the air conditioning covering up their breathing, an insignificant lamp in the corner glowing like the moon. He thinks that maybe he could be content with just this.

(The thought of wanting more, of ever _ being _ something more than this with Yohan, terrifies him.)

“Hey, Yohan-ah.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna do it tonight? Like, do _ it_.”

Stars grow in Yohan’s eyes and Wooseok can see excitement sprout from atop the boy’s head. He gives Wooseok one of those shy smiles everyone loves, bunny teeth peeking out between pouty lips. “Finally,” he says, placing two gentle hands on Wooseok’s hips. “Been waiting for you to ask me that.”

Wooseok glares at him. “We’ve never had time, dumbass.”

“Well,” Yohan says, slipping his hands under Wooseok’s shirt, dipping his thumb into Wooseok’s v-line, “now we do.”

Heart thrumming, Wooseok sighs, “Yeah, we do.”

”Here or your room?” Yohan wonders aloud.

”Here,” Wooseok answers quickly. “The walls are too thin and the bedrooms are too close together. Here’s safe.”

“You think Seungwoo-hyung’s gonna disown us when he realizes that we devirginized the couch?”

Wooseok chuckles, letting Yohan strip him of his shirt. “Can’t be worse than when we got cumstains all over Jinhyuk’s sheets.”

Yohan grins. “Then we better get to it, shouldn’t we?”

It doesn’t take too long for Wooseok to fish out the lube and condoms he brought in his bag. It takes even less time for both of them to undress to their briefs. When Wooseok finally turns to face Yohan, he sees that the boy’s sitting criss-cross, hands between his thighs as he waits for Wooseok.

And there it is, that rush of power that floats to Wooseok’s head, suddenly making him feel dizzy at the sight of Yohan being so docile—so _ easy_.

Everything about this is easy. It’s easy to pry Yohan’s thighs apart, fit himself between them, and lay his hand gently atop Yohan’s cock. Yohan’s chest heaves a little at the touch, willing himself not to buck up into the minimal contact.

“Ahh, hyung,” Yohan hums breathily. “This ‘s just, just _ mean_.”

Wooseok can already feel Yohan’s cock hardening beneath his boxers. There’s a small wet spot already, the fabric darkening. Curiously, Wooseok rubs at the spot, feeling the head of his cock over the fabric, hot in his palm. He starts to grind his left palm against Yohan’s cock, placing his right hand on Yohan’s inner thigh, trying to keep Yohan still. “Already so hard, Yohan-ah?”

Yohan writhes a little, not able to help the way his hips start to twitch helplessly into Wooseok’s hand. “_Gah, _shut up, ‘s ‘cause of you,” he mumbles, thighs spreading out even further when Wooseok wraps his entire hand around his cock, starting to get him off over his damp briefs.

“Stop moving so much,” Wooseok demands, softly slapping Yohan’s bare skin, adoring how that only makes Yohan move even more.

“Can’t,” Yohan whines. “You’re being mean, hyung.”

“What do you mean?” Wooseok asks, playing clueless as he hitches one of Yohan’s legs up and above his shoulder. It isn’t until now that Wooseok realizes how hard he himself is. His own cock presses up against Yohan’s thigh, so he takes the opportunity to fit his bulge right by the boy’s ass. Yohan lets out a loud moan when he realizes that Wooseok’s dick is pressing up between his cheeks. “Hey, be quiet. I’m even being nice to you right now.”

Yohan laughs painfully, his breathing almost miserable as he tries to keep his hips still. “You’re gonna make me come too soon, h-hyung.”

Wooseok only gives Yohan an impassive look as he slips his fingers underneath the label of Yohan’s briefs, slipping them off. Yohan’s cock bobs uselessly, big and thick as it rests against his thigh. “So? You’ll just have to come twice then.”

The younger boy outright shivers.

There’s no warning given before Wooseok leans down and licks a wet stripe up his cock, ending at the head. Yohan lets out something close to _ hyu-ngh, please, oh my god, Wooseok-hyung _ as Wooseok suckles at the tip for a few seconds. A fingertip prods at the boy’s asshole curiously. Wooseok enjoys the way Yohan outright gasps—they’ve never done _ that _ before. He rubs at the sensitive flesh a little more before bringing his pouted lips down to kiss at Yohan’s tip.

Pulling back, Wooseok licks his lips, slick and shiny from Yohan’s precum, staring right into Yohan’s eyes as he does. “I’m not holding back anymore, okay?” he cautions.

Yohan is in no position to refuse.

Wooseok handles Yohan’s cock roughly from there, rubbing him off without care. Yohan’s cock is flushed an angry red and his face is blushing so terribly beautifully. Although he’s biting his lip, moans still slip out wondrously and Wooseok cannot resist pushing himself up so he can bring a hand up to Yohan’s mouth. Two fingers slide in, and Wooseok begins to fuck his mouth and jerk him off without any ounce of delicacy.

“Gah, _ hngh_, hyu—mfhh,” he hears come from the helpless boy, his body being used like a sex toy at Wooseok’s disposal at this point. Wooseok continues to thrust his fingers against Yohan’s tongue for a few more seconds. When he pulls his fingers out, Yohan’s panting adorably, tongue slipped out past his lips, head lolled back.

Wooseok lifts his other hand from Yohan’s cock, and Yohan looks like he’s about to cry. “Hyung, p-please,” Yohan whines, “please _ touch _me.”

Smiling, Wooseok leans down to grab the lube bottle from the carpet, uncapping the bottle and smearing two of his fingertips with a generous amount of lube. “Is it okay if I finger you for a little, Yohan-ah?”

“Y-yeah, yeah,” Yohan moans, “you c’n even fuck me, ngh—”

“Not this time. Today, I want to make good use of _ this_,” Wooseok says, wrapping a hand around Yohan’s cock, squeezing roughly. “I just wanna play around with you a bit right now, okay?” He circles his slick fingers around Yohan’s pucker, dipping the tip of one into his hole. 

Yohan lets out a loud gasp, eyes starting to well up with tears. Wooseok knows that this is the first time Yohan’s ever been fingered, and he can’t explain the fluttering feeling in his chest, like something’s blooming at the thought of taking one of Yohan’s firsts.

Wooseok’s friends and bandmates always called him possessive, and he never really agreed with them, never really understood what they meant. Until now, that is.

Now, Wooseok thinks he understands what it means to want someone all to yourself, to want to own every part of another person.

Wooseok has always had trouble coming to terms with how physically attractive Yohan is, with how _ hot _ he finds Yohan—and this, seeing Yohan like this, doesn’t make it any better.

Yohan just looks so _ good_, so helpless as breathy moans escape his lips, drool smearing all over his cheek as he cries into the couch cushion.

“C’mon, Yohan-ah. You gotta keep quiet for me,” Wooseok urges, lazily jerking Yohan off again to ease the burn of pressing his finger in to the knuckle, then two. “Can’t you do that for me?”

“Feel full, hyung,” Yohan mumbles, bending his back as he tries to fuck down onto Wooseok’s fingers, fuck up into his fist. “Ngh, want more—”

_ How greedy_, Wooseok thinks.

“Hey, Yohan,” he calls quietly, an idea forming in his head. He rubs the heel of his palm against the base of Yohan’s cock. Wooseok feels dizzy with power. “Can I try something out?”

Tearily, Yohan nods his head. “Please.”

Wooseok brings a heavy hand down and slaps Yohan’s cock, palm hitting the head with a loud and resounding _ smack_. Yohan gasps for breath, jaw going slack as he arches into the touch. 

“_God_—” Yohan breathes out. “Another, hyung.”

Wooseok slaps his cock again, watching as it twitches and weeps desperately. He thinks he must be on some power high, head floating up right with the stars and satellites because there’s no way he would have done this before meeting Yohan, no goddamn way.

Yohan whines so prettily, begs and whines for more, unable to control his teary eyes and his drooling mouth.

“You look _ pathetic_,” Wooseok comments slowly, not sure how Yohan will respond.

He doesn’t expect the boy to tense up, a weak and broken moan catching in his throat as he comes undone just like that, shooting white all over his stomach, cum pooling in the dips of his abs. Yohan’s chest heaves wildly, and Wooseok can feel his own heart raging inside his rib cage.

From here on out, Wooseok doesn’t relent, not at any point.

**X**

“Yohan,” Wooseok groans, ready to get up. “You can_not _ just throw the used condom over the sofa like that.”

“Relax,” Yohan hums, wrapping his arms around Wooseok’s waist to prevent the older boy from leaving the sofa, “I’ll pick it up later. Let’s just stay here for a little bit.”

Yohan is warm and his body is big, so Wooseok surrenders, closing his eyes and giving in without a fight. “Fine, but make sure you don’t forget.”

“I promise, hyung.”

It’s quiet between them for a little while, Wooseok tucked into Yohan’s chest, their limbs tangled up to the point that Wooseok doesn’t know where he ends and Yohan begins. Yohan’s heart beats beneath Wooseok’s ear, and Wooseok thinks of it as a quiet lullaby.

(Wooseok’s eyes are closed, but if he opened them, maybe he would see that Yohan is looking down at him with a fondness of a moongazer.)

“I’m sore,” Wooseok says after some time.

“Sorry about that.”

“Make it up to me,” Wooseok orders, peeking an eye open to see Yohan lifting an eyebrow.

“And how should I do that?” Yohan wonders, amusement dripping from his voice.

Wooseok hums quietly, eyes glancing up to study Yohan’s features, but he decides he shouldn’t stare for too long or else he’ll fall in too deep. “Up to you,” he answers sleepily, letting his eyelids droop.

But his eyes shoot open when he feels a hand at his jaw, tilting his head up to face the younger boy, and then there’s lips on his and Wooseok feels like he’s a marshmallow melting into Yohan. They keep kissing and kissing and kissing and Wooseok wants to do this forever; he wants Yohan’s mouth on his for as long as he can have him, and his heart beats wildly when he realizes that.

“Mmmh,” Wooseok sighs, pulling away.

There’s a playful smile on Yohan’s face when he asks, “Was that enough?”

Wooseok returns that smile, feeling like it all must be a dream because it’s too good, it’s too good to be real. “Maybe one or two more kisses,” he decides, pressing closer, lips just barely brushing Yohan’s when they hear a loud voice speak from threshold connecting the kitchen to the living room.

“Oh, hey you two. I didn’t think you’d be back so soon. Wanna watch a movie with me? I promise Seungwoo-hyung won’t know. Aw, are you guys cuddling or som—”

And then an obscene _ squelch _ fills the room.

Wooseok immediately sits upright to try and understand what just happened, and in the darkness of the room, he just barely makes out the image of Seungyoun clad in a white t-shirt and his boxers, a bowl of popcorn in his hands, and a bare foot of his stepping on top of their used condom.

Seungyoun’s staring at what he just stepped on, the gears turning in his head. He raises his head and makes eye contact with Wooseok, at which point Wooseok fucking _ books _it, thankful that he’s at least wearing his underwear as he dashes to his bedroom.

“_No no no,_” he hears Yohan shout. “You can’t just leave me—”

“I dealt with Seungwoo-hyung,” he yells in return. “Now it’s your turn!”

“_Oh my god_,” Seungyoun whispers. “Oh my fucking god.”

**X**

Seungyoun is a bit harder to talk to about it than Seungwoo, mostly because Seungyoun reacts much like Jinhyuk did. Wooseok can’t seem to finish any of his sentences without Seungyoun bursting into laughter. Wooseok’s surprised that no one’s woken up with a noise complaint at this point. Earlier, Yohan had been at least trying (—and perhaps failing) to keep quiet, but here? Seungyoun isn’t even pretending.

“C’mon, you gotta, AHAHAH—” Seungyoun wheezes, taking a beat to recover himself. “Y-you gotta start from the beginning, Wooseok.”

Wooseok feels his lips settle into a soft, frustrated pout. “Didn’t Yohan already tell you?”

Seungyoun grins. “Every love story has two sides to it. Or more than two, I mean if you’re into that.”

“It isn’t a _ love story_, asshole,” Wooseok hisses, ignoring the way his face is suddenly set ablaze. He’s glad that the room is dark enough to cover his pink blush.

Seungyoun scoffs. “It sure looked like one from where I was standing, and I was standing in a puddle of Yohan’s _ cum_. By the way, if there’s any assholes in this story, it’s you two. Who the hell throws a used condom on the _ floor_? It’s a goddamn safety hazard and un-fucking-hygieni—”

“I get it,” Wooseok barks, tired.

“Anyways,” Seungyoun utters, moving on scarily fast, “what was I talking about? Oh yeah. You two were totally cuddling before I came in.” _ We were also heavily making out, _ Wooseok thinks, but he doesn’t bother to correct Seungyoun. “And like, if this were anyone else, I wouldn’t bat an eye, but if you’re not Hyeongjun and you ever try and _ hug _ Yohan he goes full on defense mode. It’s a total love story. I’m calling it.”

“Whatever,” Wooseok groans, rubbing the heels of his palms into his eye sockets until he feels a little dizzy. It’s nearing two in the morning and all he wants in the whole universe is to go to sleep, but Seungyoun demanded he speak to Wooseok after he was done speaking to Yohan, and the smaller boy feels too guilty to blow him off. “Do you really need to know all the details?”

“Uh, yeah, definitely. I can’t be your relationship counselor if I’m not in the know—”

“You are _ not _ gonna be our relationship counselor. And it isn’t a _ relationship_. Did Yohan not say the exact same things I’m saying right now?”

Seungyoun grins. “Oh, of course he did! It’s cute that you two’re on the same page. Unfortunately, you both are on the _ wrong _page. Hell, you guys are reading the wrong book.”

“Look, Seungyoun,” Wooseok says, standing up and getting ready to go back to his room. For a while now, he’s been clocked out from anything that Seungyoun’s trying to say. “Whatever you’re trying to say, can we save it for another day? I’m tired.”

“Did Yohan blow your back out so much that you can’t even—”

Wooseok shoots him a deadly glare, and the room drops to zero degrees fahrenheit. He stares Seungyoun straight in the eyes when he warns, “Save it, asshole.”

“You’ll be crawling back for my advice one day, Wooseok-ah!” Seungyoun yells, his voice fading as Wooseok exits the living room without even a second glance.

Seungyoun’s words rings in Wooseok’s head as he enters his own room. “Love story,” Wooseok mutters under his breath. “As if.”

He wonders why his cheeks still feel warm.

* * *

**WOOSEOK**

For Wooseok, it doesn’t happen as gloriously as you’d expect.

He looks at the new message he’s received from Jinhyuk. It reads: _ so i hear ur on a date rn ;) _

Wooseok glances up from his phone, glancing at Yohan at the other side of the booth. The younger boy’s wearing a black baseball cap and a white shirt that’s already stained with ice cream, somehow. One part of Wooseok finds it adorable, the other part wants to scold him.

The thing is, it isn’t exactly a date, but it kind of is. He and Yohan had just finished up their duo schedules, and they convinced their managers to let them go out for ice cream before heading back to the dorm. Now they’re tucked into a booth in the corner of the shop, thankful that this place doesn’t get that much business. Yohan paid for his ice cream too, claiming it was his apology for the condom incident. 

Wooseok wonders how _ Jinhyuk _ of all people found out.

_ lol, _ he sends back. _ where’d you hear that one from? _

_ a little birdie. _

Wooseok decides to torture Jinhyuk by not dignifying that text with a response.

Jinhyuk gives in after not even a minute. _ ok it was seungyoun_, Jinhyuk reveals.

Now how the hell did he find out?

_ seungyoun is a pathological liar_.

Wooseok scoops a spoonful of his matcha ice cream into his mouth, sneaking another look at Yohan. Unfortunately, he gets caught—spoon in mouth, pink on his cheeks. Wooseok hurriedly avoids Yohan’s gaze and refocuses on Jinhyuk’s texts.

_ he also said he caught u two cuddling yesterday! it took me like a full year to get u to cuddle with me. im hurt :( do u two do this all the time??? _

Wooseok pauses to consider the benefits of lying and then the benefits of telling the truth, but then he realizes that it doesn’t really matter, given that Jinhyuk’s annoyingness will outweigh any situation. He decides to be honest. _ only after sex_, he types, then following up with, _ but like Always after sex_.

_ gross. also who throws a condom on the floor after using it??? _

_ yohan_, Wooseok answers. _ seungyoun deserved to step on it anyways so i dont blame him. _

_ good. i see ur defending ur boyfriend. _

Wooseok pouts. _ hes not my boyfriend??? _

_ seungyoun and seungwoo-hyung beg to differ. _

Wooseok swears he’s gonna kill those two. X1 doesn’t need their main vocals anyways. He and Minhee are enough. _ they dont know shit, _he replies.

_ really? i think theyre onto something. _

Wooseok puts his phone down and drops his head into his palms, rubbing at his temples. He can practically see Jinhyuk’s wide grin and hear his stupid snickering. After letting out a tired sigh, Wooseok ends up typing back, _ well you dont know shit either then. _

_ pls_, Jinhyuk responds. A few seconds pass before his next message sends: _ im pretty sure we all know more than you two at this point. _

“Hyung,” Wooseok hears Yohan say. “Why’re you staring at your phone looking all constipated? Are you looking lovingly at one of your selcas again?”

He lifts his head up from where his phone is propped up against his cup of ice cream to see that Yohan’s got a spoonful of mint chocolate balanced between his fingertips, and before Wooseok can dodge, he’s lightly tapping the older’s nose with cold metal. A dollop of ice cream smears Wooseok’s nose. Yohan giggles brightly.

Wiping it away with his sleeve, Wooseok smiles and remarks, “You know, Yohan-ah, something about you never fails to piss me off.”

“Thanks, I really do try,” the boy says innocently, putting the spoon in his mouth.

Wooseok can’t rationalize why his heart does a little flip, so he distracts himself by glancing at his phone one last time, quickly reading the new notification—_if it makes u feel any better_, it says, _ everyones pretty sure that yohans had a crush on u since day one_—before turning it over without a response, groaning out loud. 

It’s a meaningless conversation in the first place. Wooseok doesn’t buy a single word of it.

They go back to the dorm after they’ve finished their ice cream. Once they arrive, they realize that everyone else has already left for the dance studio, so they stay in Wooseok’s bedroom as they wait for one of their managers to come and pick them up. Yohan leans against a wall while Wooseok lies barefoot on his bed. Right now, right here—it’s just Yohan, and it’s just Wooseok.

“Hey, Yohan,” says Wooseok, remembering his burning question from earlier. “Wanna explain how Seungyoun found out that we went to go get ice cream after our schedule?”

A forced smile makes its way onto Yohan’s face. “I may have sent him a photo of you when you weren’t looking,” he answers reluctantly. Quieter, he adds, “You looked cute when they handed you your order.”

For some reason, Wooseok’s heartbeat falls into arrhythmia, even if just for a second—beating wildly and out of reason.

Wooseok exhales a deep breath. “_God _ . . . ” he sighs, getting up from his bed. He’s not exactly sure why he walks up to Yohan like he does, why he feels like he’s being pulled into Yohan’s orbit (—why he doesn’t even try and resist gravity).

Their toes almost touch. Wooseok frowns a little when he remembers he has to lift his head up to glare at the younger boy. “I don’t get it.”

“What do you mean?” Yohan says, the corners of his lips curling into a pretty smile as he puts a hand on Wooseok’s waist.

A lot of things come to Wooseok’s mind. First, _ why on earth does Seungyoun think this is a love story? _ Then, _ why are you so much stupidly bigger than me? _ And lastly, _ what type of loser likes mint chocolate? _

But the one Wooseok asks is: “Why do I even deal with you?”

Wooseok doesn’t like how he has to tilt his head up to face Yohan. He doesn’t like how Yohan’s body is so much bigger than his. He doesn’t like how something about Yohan makes him feel vulnerable in ways that no one else has ever made him feel. He doesn’t like how Yohan makes his heart beat faster than should be healthy, makes his heart beat in quiet arrhythmias that are anything but gentle. He doesn’t like this. Wooseok doesn’t like him.

Wooseok doesn’t like Yohan.

“Because it’s boring without me, hyung.”

But if Wooseok is honest with himself—

Wooseok doesn’t mind how small Yohan makes him feel; it’s something of a reminder that he doesn’t have to play Atlas anymore, that he doesn’t have to hold all the world on his shoulders to survive. Wooseok doesn’t mind feeling vulnerable anymore, doesn’t mind the way his chest feels unbearably light with Yohan’s hands around his waist, the way he gets unbearably lightheaded when Yohan puts his mouth on his. Wooseok doesn’t mind this new heartbeat of his. Wooseok doesn’t mind the way Yohan has shaken up his world from its roots to its stratosphere. Wooseok doesn’t mind Yohan’s stupid, goofy self. Wooseok doesn’t mind this. Wooseok doesn’t mind him.

Wooseok doesn’t mind Yohan.

“Yeah,” Wooseok admits, finally letting go of his pride. He might as well be honest to Yohan too. “Maybe it is.”

And then Yohan—

Yohan _ smiles_. Yohan smiles and Wooseok feels like he’s about to fall apart.

Wooseok decides that he likes it when Yohan smiles like this, smiles like he’s trying to hide his bunny teeth. (Yohan always fails miserably at this, Wooseok has found, but maybe that’s what makes him so terribly cute.) He decides that he likes it when Yohan’s smile is shyly scrunched up and his teeth are peeking out. When Yohan’s hair is just barely long enough to fall over his eyes, and yet you can still see that he’s smiling with his eyes too. When Wooseok can see the stars in Yohan’s eyes and there’s no darkness that could ever eclipse his glow. Wooseok likes this. Wooseok likes him.

“Now don’t go falling for me, hyung.”

“You wish, Yohan-ah.”

Wooseok likes—_ah fuck. _

**X**

Wooseok tries to pretend like he’d just gone mad for a second there, but it’s too late—the seed has been planted and the fruit begins to bloom, or however it goes. He comes to terms with it rather quickly, because it’s not that big of a deal, so he’s decided not to make it one.

And, really—once Wooseok’s figured it out, it all starts to make sense. His wild heart raging like it’s about to burst and break his rib cage all those times he’s been with Yohan. His heart skipping a tempo or two whenever Yohan’s hair falls past his eyes as he gives Wooseok a boyish smile.

There’s no denying those feelings anymore.

On the bright side, nothing has changed between him and Yohan recently.

However, _ nothing has changed between him and Yohan recently, _ so Wooseok is left wondering when the hell he caught feelings, when the hell he stopped hating Yohan for everything he is and started _ liking _ all his stupid quirks and quips. And then a terrible, terrifying thought comes to his mind: maybe it’s been like this all along and he’s just never noticed.

Wooseok mulls over it for a day, then two, and he can’t get to the bottom of it. But by the third day, he does come to the conclusion that even though nothing has really changed, at the same time it feels like _ everything has changed_.

Because—

Jealousy. It all starts with jealousy.

Wooseok never realized before that with possessiveness comes _ jealousy. _

“Yohan,” Wooseok calls. The younger boy looks over from where he’s draped over the loveseat. “We have a couple hours before our next filming, do you wanna get lunch?”

“Oh, sorry hyung,” Yohan responds, not taking his eyes off the TV. Wooseok realizes that the variety show Yohan is watching is a show that the two of them are scheduled to be on soon. “I have lunch plans with Junho and Eunsang. Rain check?”

Wooseok nods his head then realizes that Yohan still isn’t looking at him. “Oh—okay,” he mutters. “See you at practice then.”

He ignores the burning feeling in his chest. It’s nothing. After all, there’s no reason for him to be feeling . . . whatever he’s feeling right now. He leaves the room, pouting the whole way, and ends up bumping into Seungyoun.

“Hey, Wooseokie. Oh wait, hol’ up,” Seungyoun says, placing both his hands on Wooseok’s shoulders with a frown, “why’re you sulking?”

Wooseok is embarrassed at the reason, so he objects stubbornly, “I’m not sulking.”

Seungyoun pokes his cheek, grinning all wide before he says in that high-pitched, teasing voice of his, “Is it because your boyfriend is gonna go out to lunch with Junho and Eunsangie today?”

“He’s _ not _ my—”

“But you want him to be, right?”

Wooseok smacks Seungyoun’s hand away. “We are _ not _ doing this.”

The grin never leaves Seungyoun’s face. Wooseok wishes he could smack the glasses off of his face. Maybe Wooseok could snag the beanie off his head too. Kill two birds with one stone and all. “I didn’t hear a no!” Seungyoun singsongs.

“No,” Wooseok grits out, teeth clenched as he says, “I don’t want Yohan to be my boyfriend.” He doesn’t have to think about it much. It’s not like he’s dying for his feelings for Yohan—whatever they are—to be reciprocated.

He’s more embarrassed that somewhere along the way _ he _ was the one who ruined it all and caught feelings first.

Seungyoun furrows his eyebrows, his bangs brushed back into his beanie. Playing along, he then asks, “Then what do you want him to be?”

Wooseok hasn’t thought much about what he wants Yohan to be. Wooseok hasn’t thought much about what he wants in general. But what he does know is that _being something_ _with someone_ is scary—boyfriends or lovers or whatever else. Being something with someone . . . Wooseok doesn’t know what that means, and he doesn’t know why that scares him more than anything right now.

“I don’t want him to be my _ anything_,” he decides.

Right now all Wooseok wants is for these feelings to go away. He doesn’t want things to change between him and Yohan, so if his feelings are the catalyst for change, well? He doesn’t need them.

“Really?” Seungyoun asks. He doesn’t believe it. 

“Yes really,” Wooseok groans. “Now leave me alone.”

Seungyoun takes that as an invitation to wrap an arm around the smaller boy’s shoulders. “Nope. You are gonna stop sulking, and _ we _ are gonna go on a lunch date.”

Wooseok sighs, letting Seungyoun drag him out of the dorm. Without realizing it, he starts to smile.

But the jealousy doesn’t end there, Wooseok finds.

He doesn’t know how it’s happened, but Hangyul is teasing Yohan about his old predebut photos. They’re sitting in the corner of the practice room together, thighs touching as Yohan tries to grab the phone and pull it away from Hangyul’s grasp. He’s nearly flinging himself onto Hangyul’s lap, flopping like a fish out of water—and Wooseok _ would _ find it cute—he’d find it cute if it weren’t for the prickling vines that started to coil around his body when his eyes stopped upon the sight, rose thorns puncturing his skin, and it feels like he’s being devoured.

Wooseok doesn’t like feeling jealous. 

At some point, Yohan looks up and makes eye contact with Wooseok, and it’s like he _ knows_. It’s like he knows that Wooseok is jealous—it’s like he did this on purpose. It’s like this is a fucking game and nothing more. But why?

Wooseok doesn’t want Yohan to be his boyfriend, and he doesn’t want anything to change between them—but if nothing changes, then Wooseok has no right to be jealous, no right to be unhappy.

Wooseok doesn’t like this feeling at all.

It all comes to a head that night, when they all get back late from practicing for their showcase, downing cups of instant ramen like there’s no tomorrow.

While Wooseok’s barely started his second cup, Yohan’s already slapping his fourth finished cup against the table, exclaiming, “Ah—I’m done!”

Dongpyo puts his own cup down on his table and drapes his small body all over Yohan’s shoulders, ruffling the older boy’s hair as he praises, “Aigoo, good job!” like he’s wont to do with Seungwoo.

Yohan giggles, scrunching up his body, shy at the touch. Angling so he’s now facing Dongpyo, he pinches Dongpyo’s face with both his hands and pulls at the boy’s mochi-like cheeks.

“Hey, Dongpyo-yah,” Yohan announces. “You’re the one who needs to eat more, or else you won’t gr—”

Dongpyo then glares at him with a gaze so cold it could turn Medusa to stone, so Yohan doesn’t finish what he was saying, shyly hiding himself behind Seungwoo when he sees that Dongpyo is threateningly holding two chopsticks aimed at his head.

Wooseok doesn’t realize he’s been staring until Seungyoun pats his head and whispers, “Careful, Wooseokie. You’re _ fuming _right now.”

“I am not fuming,” Wooseok argues. But as the words leave his mouth, he realizes that _ he is_. A fire burns underneath his skin that’s not pleasant at all.

“Calm down,” Seungyoun teases. “It’s Dongpyo and Seungwoo-hyung.”

Wooseok bites his lip before slurping more of his ramen. His circle glasses fog up a little bit as he eats. “I know that.”

A few beats pass and Wooseok tries not to stare too much at how their leader has started to moan obnoxiously into Yohan’s ear (—Wooseok has no context for this one). Yohan squirms away, but Seungwoo only follows him wherever he goes.

“Yah,” Seungyoun says to him, forcing Wooseok to stop torturing himself by watching. “If you’re so bothered by it, I have an idea.”

Wooseok squints his eyes, a bit cautious when it comes to Seungyoun and _ ideas_. “What is it?”

Seungyoun grins, happy that Wooseok is even considering taking him up on the offer. “You’ll have to trust me on this one, Wooseok-ah,” he replies, placing his empty cup on the table. 

Wooseok thinks he really must be going crazy, because he puts his ramen cup down next to Seungyoun’s and sighs, “Fine, I trust you.”

And it all happens a bit too quickly for Wooseok to protest, because Seungyoun catches him off guard by coiling an arm under his knee, pulling Wooseok into his lap so that they’re facing each other. With a loud yelp, the smaller boy ends up perched on Seungwoo’s lap, knees around his thighs.

The rest of the group notices, and Wooseok can hear their annoyingly loud laughter behind him.

Wooseok feels the tips of his ears go bright red as his mouth parts slightly, eyes wide in shock. He tries to wriggle out of Seungyoun’s lap, but Seungyoun wraps his arms around his waist and holds him in place.

“I am going to kill you,” Wooseok hisses, curling up his hand into a fist, about to hit Seungyoun’s chest, but Seungyoun wraps his hand around it and whispers—

“Not before Yohan kills me.” Seungyoun lets go of his hold, and a bit reluctantly, Wooseok calms down, sitting in Seungyoun’s lap placidly, pouting slightly.

“What do you mean?” Wooseok asks, furrowing his eyebrows with suspicion. He feels a little uncomfortable with the rest of the group staring at them like this, but he supposes it isn’t the worst thing in the world.

Seungyoun’s blinding smile rivals the sun in both its brightness and it’s annoyingness. “Don’t look now, but while everyone’s laughing, Yohan looks pretty pissed right now. Kinda like you were a few minutes ago.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Somehow, Seungyoun grins even wider at that. “Yohan—” he singsongs, going to pat Wooseok’s head as he makes eye contact with Yohan. “Isn’t Wooseokie so cute and small? Makes you wanna keep him in your lap forever, huh?”

So Wooseok hisses out, “Call me small one more time and I’ll—”

“Don’t be an asshole, hyung,” they hear muttered from the other side of the table. Wooseok twists around on Seungyoun’s lap to see that Yohan has gotten up and is about to leave, but before he’s able to, Seungwoo pulls on his wrist.

“Hey, where are you going?” Seungwoo asks.

Yohan shakes his wrist away from Seungwoo’s grip, shoving both his arms in his pockets.

“Anywhere I don’t have to see _ that_,” Yohan grumbles, facing away from the group. And again, again Yohan is about to leave, but then Wooseok can’t help the little voice inside his head that compels him to ruin everything and ask—

“Why? Are you jealous or something?”

And that’s the tipping point.

Wooseok doesn’t want things to change, but he doesn’t think he could take it any longer if they don’t.

Yohan turns back around, and there’s this painful look on his face, like something inside of him is eating him alive. “What’s there to be jealous of?”

Wooseok is crawling out of Seungyoun’s lap to stand and face Yohan. “You tell me, Yohan-ah.”

“You’re _ not _ mine, and I’m not yours. I don’t _ own _ you, so—”

“You sure seem like you want to. If you want us to be something, then stop being a coward and just say it.”

Yohan scoffs, his eyes never leaving Wooseok’s. “Really? Because right now, it sounds a lot like you’re just saying that for your own sake. _ You’re _ the one who needs to stop being a goddamn coward. If you want us to be more than we are—”

“_We_,” Wooseok says, “are not anything. We never were.”

The entire room is silent, and Wooseok suddenly remembers that the whole group is here, that they’ve both ruined the mood, that they’ve both practically outed their relationship—if you can even call it that. In the silence, Wooseok starts to count the pulses of his own livid heart because it’s all he can hear, beating loud and raging out of reason.

Finally, Yohan speaks, his voice hollow, “Is that really what you think?”

Wooseok doesn’t respond.

After a few seconds, Yohan leaves the room.

“Yah—” Seungwoo yells, chasing after him.

Wooseok drops his head, letting his hair fall over his eyes as he avoids the rest of the group’s judging eyes. Eventually, he quietly drops down to sit on the ground, curling his knees up to his chest, embarrassed and regretful. He buries his face behind his forearms.

He doesn’t really know what just happened, doesn’t really know why he said the things he did. Maybe he was just sick of it all, sick of the stupid things he’s been feeling lately, sick of trying to keep all his emotions within the walls of his heart—sick of trying to keep himself from _ bursting. _

Maybe he thought that if he lied to himself enough about it not meaning anything, about Yohan not meaning anything to him, then it’d start to come true. Then he’d start to believe it. Then all these feelings deep in his chest would go away.

It didn’t work.

“Wooseok-ah,” he hears from above him, a hand shaking at his shoulder. Wooseok lifts his head up to see that Seungyoun is trying to pull him up from the ground. “C’mon, let’s talk in private.”

Without much protest, Wooseok lets himself be pulled into a different room. His heart is racing and his mind is replaying everything that just happened. He can’t think much about _ now_, about how there are tears that are about to spill past his waterline and—_oh_, hey, when did those even get there? Wooseok wipes them away with a sleeve.

Once they’re in private, Seungyoun sits him down on a bed. 

Wooseok looks around after a few seconds, looks down at the sheets and realizes that this is neither his bed nor Seungyoun’s bed. “Why are we in Minhee’s room?” he asks. He winces once he hears his voice for the first time since Yohan stormed out. It’s weak and shaky and it makes him feel weak. (Maybe he is weak, after all.)

“Ah, sorry,” Seungyoun says, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly as he sits down next to Wooseok. “It was just the closest bedroom. You . . . you looked like you were about to fall apart out there.”

Wooseok’s voice quivers when he mutters, “Y-yeah.”

Wooseok has given up everything; he’s sold his soul to the devil for a second chance and he’s got it, he’s finally got it all, so why does it feel like something’s missing? He feels a bullet of guilt and shame pierce his chest when he realizes that even grasping all his dreams with his bare hands just isn’t quite enough. That even with all his favorite constellations wrapped around his fingertips—twinkling like fairy lights, right in his grasp—it isn’t enough for his greedy heart.

These are his dreams, glittering still in both his bare, cupped palms. These are his dreams, and Wooseok has them all in his hands. Wooseok has pulled them all out from the sky, pulled all the stars out from the goddamn and he’s staring up at an empty, black canvas wondering where the hell he went wrong.

He starts to sniffle, body wracking with frustration, so he brings his sleeve up to his mouth, biting the fabric to quiet the whimpers. Wooseok hates the sound of them, hates being reminded of all his faults and all his weaknesses.

His chest feels heavy.

Seungyoun waits for Wooseok’s breathing to calm down before he says, “I’m sorry about the whole sitting in my lap thing. I didn’t think Yohan would get _ that _ upset about it.”

“No, it’s fine,” Wooseok assures. “I think was the one who took it too far.”

It’s silent again until Seungyoun asks, “When’d you figure it out—? Your feelings about him and everything.”

Wooseok almost chokes out a pathetic laugh when he realizes the irony of it all. “The day after you did.”

Humming like he’s deep in thought, Seungyoun taps his fingers on the sheets, lightly drumming a beat. “Has it ever occurred to you that Yohan likes you back?” he wonders.

That . . . Wooseok’s never thought about that. He’s never thought about Yohan ever liking him back, because it’s never been an option. “If he likes me or doesn’t like me,” Wooseok says, “it doesn’t matter. Because . . . dating Yohan, being in a _ relationship _ with Yohan, has never been an option.”

“Why? Why’s it not an option? You like Yohan, Yohan likes you—”

Wooseok’s voice is small and insecure when he asks, “Does he?”

Seungyoun laughs; he laughs _ loud_, throwing his head back_. _ “You know what Yohan asked me on the second day of training camp?” he questions. “He asked me if I had a thing for you. Or if you and Jinhyuk had a thing _ together_. I forgot which one it was, but anyways—”

Wooseok eyes widen in disbelief. “He did _ not_.”

“He really did. Oh god, please don’t make me relive that conversation. He made me promise to never tell anyone about it after he realized how stupid he was being, but—you know, I still told Jinhyuk and Seungwoo-hyung afterwards,” Seungyoun admits, not a trace of guilt lingering in his smile. “Seungwoo-hyung and I were _convinced_ that he had a crush on you, but Jinhyuk kept insisting that you two just didn’t like each other. I guess he came around in the end. But—the point is, Yohan’s had a crush on you since _then._”

“So that’s what Jinhyuk meant,” Wooseok mumbles.

Yohan constantly getting under his skin during Produce, Yohan staying late with him to practice for U Got It, Yohan drunkenly announcing that he likes Wooseok in the BBQ restaurant, Yohan trying to make him jealous, _ getting _jealous over him sitting in Seungyoun’s lap . . . huh, Yohan’s really liked him all this time.

But the real question is, when did Wooseok start to like Yohan? He thinks back, thinks long and hard, but everything begins to bleed together and Wooseok isn’t sure what this blooming feeling in his chest is. Thinking about the time he’s spent with Yohan, realizing that Yohan’s liked him all along, trying to figure out when he started to fall for the younger boy as well—Wooseok’s chest aches something gentle.

After Seungyoun’s given him some time to think about everything, to come to terms with the new information, he asks Wooseok once more, “So why’s it not an option? What’s stopping you other than _ you?_”

Wooseok doesn’t have an answer that isn’t pathetically self-deprecating, so he stays quiet.

Seungyoun takes his silence as an opportunity to change the topic. Ruffling the boy’s hair playfully, he points out, “Our debut is in a few days.”

“Yeah,” Wooseok exhales. “It is.”

Seungyoun wraps an arm around Wooseok’s shoulders. “Fix it before then, okay?”

Wooseok lets out a deep breath, resting his head against Seungyoun’s side. “I will.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know, but—”

He never wanted this. _This _ was never supposed to happen—catching feelings, getting attached, doing whatever this is. Wooseok shouldn’t want anything that interferes with those dreams he’s pulled from the sky. Wooseok shouldn’t want Yohan, but—_he does. _ Wooseok wants Yohan and he wants to be _ with _ Yohan so much that it terrifies him.

“I think I want the real thing this time.”

Seungyoun’s next words will stay with him for as long as he lives, Wooseok thinks. “You know you don’t have to feel guilty for wanting that. For wanting something more with Yohan. It’s not selfish or greedy or anything,” Seungyoun says. “You know that, right?”

Wooseok bites his lip. “I’m working on it.”

**X**

Yohan is avoiding him, and everyone notices.

At some point, even Dohyon comes up to Wooseok and says sincerely, “I’m sorry that you and Yohan-hyung broke up.”

Wooseok doesn’t feel like explaining that he and Yohan weren’t even a couple, that there was no official relationship to be broken up in the first place, so he covers up his wince with a forced smile. “Thanks, Dohyon . . . ” Wooseok mumbles, embarrassed that even their maknae has caught on to the tension between him and Yohan. Though, Wooseok supposes, what _ other _ conclusion could you come up with after last night?

The avoiding bleeds into the next day, and then the next, and the next.

Just as Wooseok is about to give up for good, suddenly Seungyoun is forcefully pushing him into his own bedroom, followed by Seungwoo dragging Yohan into the same room. Wooseok and Yohan stand facing each other at the doorway, shellshocked and unsure what to do from here.

“Our debut’s on _ Tuesday_,” Seungwoo reminds loudly, exasperated. He quickly slams the door shut behind him and Seungyoun.

“We couldn’t let this go on any longer,” Seungyoun shouts from the other side of the door.

“It’s only been three days—!” Yohan shouts back stubbornly.

“Three days too long,” they hear Seungwoo yell.

Yohan pointedly avoids Wooseok’s stare. A few seconds pass like that, and then Yohan lets out a loud sigh, like he’s had enough of it all, and goes to turn the doorknob. But Wooseok grabs at Yohan’s wrist before he’s able to leave, tugging him backwards.

“Yah, Yohan-ah. I’ve been trying to talk to you for the past three days,” Wooseok remarks.

“I’ve noticed,” Yohan mumbles, gaze still focused on the ground.

“Can’t we just—_talk _ for a little bit?”

“What is there to talk about, hyung?”

Playing with the ends of his sleeves, Wooseok bites his lip. He answers with a small, insecure voice, “About what we want from each other.”

Yohan frowns, looking straight at Wooseok for the first time in days. “I think you’ve made it pretty clear what you want from me.”

Wooseok tightens his hold on Yohan’s wrist. “No,” he says. “I haven’t.”

The lines in Yohan’s forehead relax. The boy puffs up his cheeks a little bit before he pouts in confusion. “What . . . do you mean?” he asks carefully.

Wooseok lets go of Yohan’s arm. He starts to bunch his fists up in the fabric of his sleeves, not knowing what to do with his hands. “Uh. I guess, I guess I’m saying that I’m sorry for what I said that night. About us not being anything.”

“You weren’t wrong, hyung,” Yohan says quietly. “We weren’t—_we weren’t anything._”

“We were,” Wooseok maintains. “We might not have been dating, but, but we were something, Yohan, and I’m sorry for saying we weren’t.”

“What were we then?”

“I don’t know.” Pride means nothing if it’ll just get between him and Yohan, all the planets and stars in the universe mean nothing if they’ll just put distance between him and Yohan, Wooseok has learned, so he lets go of everything he has and confesses, “I don’t know, but I think it made me happy.”

Both Yohan’s eyes go gentle, and he looks more vulnerable than ever. Wooseok thinks he can see hope in them. “Do you want to go back to that?”

Wooseok doesn’t want to play games any longer.

“No,” he answers decisively. Yohan’s eyes fall into sad crescents, and before he can speak, Wooseok cuts him off and says, “I want more.”

Yohan blinks. “You—want more?” he repeats.

Wooseok steps closer, and there’s barely any room between their bodies anymore. “Yohan,” he breathes, voice barely a whisper, “why did you get so mad when Seungyoun pulled me into his lap?”

“Because . . . you’re—” Yohan stops himself, face scrunching up cutely in frustration. “I wanted you to be—”

“You wanted me to be yours?”

Yohan’s cheeks turn a soft pink. “Yeah.”

“I’d like that,” Wooseok mumbles, hesitantly grabbing Yohan’s fingers and lacing them with his. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Then from now on,” Yohan utters, lips curling into a cute smile, “you’re mine.”

Wooseok finds all the courage he has to look Yohan dead in the eyes and say, “But, if I’m yours, then that means you’re mine too, okay?”

“Of course,” Yohan agrees, squeezing Wooseok’s hands before letting go. He places both his hands on Wooseok’s hips and pulls him close, dipping his head down for a kiss that’s much too short for Wooseok’s liking, so Wooseok fists the top of Yohan’s shirt with a smile and tugs him down for another.

“I like you,” Yohan hums, words faint against Wooseok’s lips.

“I know,” Wooseok exhales dreamily, eyelashes fluttering softly as he presses his mouth gently to Yohan’s. “I like you too. I like you a lot. I think I have for a long time.”

Yohan only kisses him deeper.

Wooseok lets out a soft sigh as they kiss, finding that he can’t stop himself from smiling, can’t stop himself from absorbing Yohan’s warm happiness, can’t stop himself from breathing Yohan in like he’s oxygen. He might as well be.

Wooseok starts to wonder when he fell for this idiot, so he pulls back and takes a moment to look at Yohan, trying to figure out why he even likes Yohan, trying to pinpoint what it is about Yohan that he likes.

And—

It’s in this moment, this moment where Yohan is smiling like he’s the sun and Wooseok is the moon and they’ve just fallen into orbit, some cataclysmic mistake of the universe, that Wooseok decides he likes everything about Yohan. He likes everything from his eye smile to his bunny teeth to that mole above his eyebrow. Wooseok likes everything about Yohan—_everything_, and maybe it isn’t so scary anymore.

Maybe it’s okay to love someone just as much as your dreams, to stop and breathe and take in the moon glow.

* * *

**take one:**

“Hey, d’ya think Seungwoo-hyung and Seungyoun-hyung are still eavesdropping out there?”

Wooseok grins. “Hm, then why don’t we give them something to listen to?”

**take two:**

“We’re boyfriends now,” Wooseok says to the group that night. It’s late, and he and Yohan have just finished celebrating. It’s late, and the rest of X1 are thankful that the faint, suggestive noises have _ finally _stopped.

“_Boyfriends_,” Hyeongjun repeats, eyes widening, cheeks blushing.

“Boyfriends,” Yohan affirms with a firm nod, squeezing Wooseok’s hand.

Everyone’s congratulating and hugging the two of them—although Seungwoo and Seungyoun do so with more pain in their expressions than the rest of them—when suddenly they hear their maknae speak up for the first time all night: “Wait,” Dohyon interrupts, still sitting on the couch, face scrunched up in utter confusion. “So you’re telling me that you two _ haven’t _ been boyfriends since U Got It?”

“You knew about us since _ U Got It?_”

**take three:**

**jinhyuk**  
_12:21 AM_  
so i have to hear from jinwoo who heard from  
wonjin who heard from hyeongjun to find out  
that you and yohan are boyfriends now? what  
the fuck? news travels fast but i guess a heart  
breaks FASTER.

**wooseok**  
_12:24 AM _  
jinhyuk. we told the group less than 5min ago

**jinhyuk**  
_ 12:24 AM _  
and u guys shouldve told me FIRST

** wooseok **  
_ 12:25 AM _  
sucks

** jinhyuk **  
_ 12:25 AM _  
I DESERVED BETTER, KIM WOOSEOK  
U TWO HAD SEX IN MY FUCKING BED

**Author's Note:**

> please **kudos** and **bookmark** and **comment** if you enjoyed reading :D your comments on love sprout really made my day last time. and please stay tuned for more yocat. i love u guys lots! 
> 
> **part three hint:** pet play, power play, sub yohan, mean soft dom wooseok, and a surprise guest… more sexual tension… and more making out against walls… a (not-so?) surprise ot3 pwp is in store!


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